


Thought I Could Never (Feel This Way)

by thewordsleep



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Also the letters they wrote to their future selves are canon, Alternate Canon, Angst, Blood and Injury, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Everybody Lives, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Gore, Stan lives because I said so, The Jade of the Orient (IT), Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21512533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewordsleep/pseuds/thewordsleep
Summary: Eddie waves his hand at him and shrugs. "It's funny now, I mean, if you think about it," he grins, "for two whole months Ireallythought Richie Tozier was my first fucking boyfriend. That's nuts."ORRichie finds out that when they were kids, Eddie thought they were dating.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 41
Kudos: 593





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from I'm Alive by Electric Light Orchestra because I think I'm hilarious.

"Fuck, that letter-- _why_ did I ever let you read it?"

"You wanted me to check your grammar, I think?" Stan chuckles and pats Eddie on the back. "Shit, you wanted to be married to Pamela Anderson, remember?"

"Yeah, how'd that work out for ya?" Richie asks dryly, and everyone laughs.

"But it was so sweet!" Stan grins, glancing between them.

Eddie covers his face, laughing in embarrassment. "God, stop reminding me. It's worse than the time I thought I was dating Richie, remember?"

Bill, Ben, and Beverly gasp. Richie chokes on his drink, the glass dropping heavily onto the table. Eddie swallows hard.

" _What?"_ Richie sputters out.

"Oh, I remember that!" Mike laughs, and passes Bill a beer when he gestures for one.

Bev gapes at Eddie. "I _don't_ remember that!"

"Me neither," Bill says after taking a swig, concentrating like it might come back to him.

"Neither do I! When did this happen?" Ben says, leaning forward on his elbows.

"Yeah Eddie, man," Mike says with a grin, "you've gotta tell 'em the story."

"Oh, God it's _all_ coming back to me," Eddie says, leaning away from the table and laughing awkwardly. "I dunno, it's really fucking embarrassing, guys."

"Aw come on!" Bev says, reaching over to shove at his shoulder.

"Yeah, we _have_ to know now, c'mon man," says Bill, and a chorus of _yeahs_ and _tell us!_ follows.

"Alright, alright," Eddie says, a little buzzed on his second beer, "but let me preface this by saying I was only _thirteen!"_

They all murmur their understanding and everyone at the table goes quiet, rapt. 

"Look," Eddie begins, "when, well, we'd just killed a fucking demonic monster clown. After that we were all pretty... freaked out, I think is fair to say," everyone nods at that, some taking a gulp of their drinks. "So Richie spent a lot of time… _with_ me, at my house." He pauses and thinks of how to explain, how much he can give away and still keep it lighthearted.

This is supposed to be about how silly Eddie was back then, and not how completely lovestruck.

He makes sure not to look over at Richie as he speaks, though he can feel him staring. 

"Right so-hah, okay," Eddie rubs at his neck, uncomfortable, "so he'd sneak in usually on school nights, and he _always_ had to sneak in since my mom wasn't his biggest fan, and," he pauses again, expecting Richie to make a joke there, but he doesn't. 

Eddie goes on, the details becoming clearer as he speaks, "We would have sleepovers almost every night and share my bed, and just talk all night--and when he wasn't there we'd talk on the phone for, like, _hours_ on end." He doesn't go into specifics, like how serious and honest Richie was those nights and over the phone, how their foreheads would touch or his hand would slowly find Eddie's in the dark. 

How warm and safe it felt to be loved like that.

Eddie clears his throat. "Rich always called me pet-names, ya know? Christ, this is so… but like, you guys know, right? He was always so touchy and fake-flirty back then, but even more after... after _It._ And I just felt so special," he clasps his hands together and flutters his eyelashes, "'cause here I thought, at the time, I thought he was only doing that with me." 

Eddie gets a few odd looks at that, but he goes on, "And then one night, he couldn't stay over," he looks down at the table, fighting a blush. "I don't remember why. But it was late, I was half asleep, and before he left he leaned down real close and, um, kissed me on the cheek, and said "bye, baby" really softly, and left," Eddie lets out a breath, his heart racing at the memory, the flood of old feelings. 

"So I was like, oh so we're _definitely_ dating then, he just called me baby and kissed me, it's official," he finishes with a laugh, but no one else does.

Bev is the first to break the silence, resting her chin on her palm, her eyes searching. 

"How did you find out you weren't?" 

"Oh, see that's how Stan and Mike know," Eddie says, smiling at them all, "I was kind of ecstatic and petrified about having my first _boyfriend_ of all things, so one day I went to the barrens early, saw Stan and I just--blurted everything out. And then I cried, like so much." 

Stan nods, slowly remembering more. "Oh yeah, you were bawling your eyes out and saying you hoped I wouldn't hate you--as if any of us ever would," he says, and then his mouth pulls down at the memory, "then you mentioned it was Richie." 

"Yeah," Eddie says ruefully, his voice cracking just a little, "that's when Mike barged in and told us he saw Richie making out with Brenda Arrowsmith outside of the Aladdin, and then I cried even harder, haha." 

Everyone goes silent for a minute. 

"That story's a lot less funny than I remember it being," Mike says awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. 

Eddie waves his hand at him and shrugs. "It's funny now, I mean, if you think about it," he grins, "for two whole months I _really_ thought Richie Tozier was my first fucking boyfriend. That's nuts." 

It's strange to remember things like this, an odd mix of old and fresh bittersweetness to it. Eddie feels the sting of that moment, how his heart dropped when he found out Richie was cheating on him. 

And then that slow like molasses realization, that there was really nothing to cheat on. 

He thinks, and almost convinces himself that he finds it funny too. It's a memory so distant he only just remembered it, it barely registers as a memory of his own. So that must mean it barely hurts at all. Eddie thinks hard about this until he sees Richie's face. 

Richie, who has gone pale and stayed silent and still this whole time, his hands flat on the table, staring at Eddie with big eyes. 

Richie opens his mouth to say something. 

And then the fortune cookies begin to tremble. 


	2. Chapter 2

They don't get a chance to talk about it for a while. Too much happens, they have to find their tokens, and Richie was forced to confront his own haunted past.

_"You know what happens to boys with dirty little secrets in this town, Richie,"_ the clown had grinned grotesquely at him, and collapsed onto the grass at his feet, to his horror.

It convulsed on the ground, as its body morphed into the rotting corpse of Adrian Mellon.

"Hey handsome," It smiled up at him. Adrian's dead grey face smiling with broken and bloodied teeth, and an inhaler clutched in his hand.

"It's not real," Richie told himself, shaking his head, "it's not-- _it's not real."_

He stood frozen in shock, as Adrian's body slowly transformed into Eddie's in broad daylight, sitting up and pale with a gaping hole in his chest, and blood running down his chin.

"Richie, oh God," It said, sounding so much like Eddie, his eyes wide and scared as he looked down at his chest, the wound bleeding sluggishly down his torn clothes, "Rich, I'm dying," Eddie said, gasping, "I-I'm _bleeding!"_

"No," Richie choked, stumbling back, "no, no, _no!"_ He covered his ears and shut his eyes to the desperate sounds of Eddie's fear and pain, breathing hard and still unable to move. _It's not real._

"Hey Richie," It said again in Eddie's voice, but sounding different this time, younger.

Richie couldn't help but to open his eyes, looking down in horror to see Eddie, but as a child, his arm back in the cast and black blood oozing down his chin. It grinned up at Richie with Eddie's young smile, the black sludge darkening his teeth. 

"Wanna play Street Fighter with me, Rich?" It said mocking, holding out a token in its hand to him, and stretching Eddie's smile into long slits at the corners of his mouth, the teeth growing sharp, "I'll let you win. I _always_ let you win, wanna know why? How about truth or dare--?"

_"Richie!"_ Eddie, the present Eddie, says, peering up into Richie's face with concern. "Hey, you okay, man?"

Richie gasps and blinks back at him and looks around in confusion. Right. They're in the library. Eddie's alive, not pale and dying. Right. _Fuck._

"Jesus fucking _Christ,"_ Richie says in a breath, and presses a hand firmly to his chest. _It wasn't real._

"Rich," Eddie says, frowning at him, "What--?"

Richie waves him away, trying for casual. "Clown, fucked up trauma shit, the usual."

Eddie frowns again, like he knows Richie's deflecting. Christ, they don't see each other for twenty-seven years but Eddie still knows him like the back of his hand.

"What happened to your cheek there, Eds?" Richie asks before Eddie can prod for more information, reaching up to poke at Eddie's bandaged face gently. 

"Henry Bowers was in my room," Eddie answers, voice shaky. He swats Richie's hand away and leans heavily against a bookcase. "But you killed him, so, thanks, I guess."

"I did," Richie says, looking down at his hands to find them shaking. "Holy fuck, yeah, I killed him. I _killed_ the guy, Eds."

Eddie nods slowly at him, and pats him gently on the arm. "If it's any consolation," he offers awkwardly, "the guy was a murderous psychopath and I stabbed him too," he gestures to his cheek, "pulled the knife outta my face and everything."

It makes Richie smile, like nothing else has for the past twelve hours. He blows out the breath he was holding and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose where his glasses sit. " _Shit,_ we really should've just left when we had the chance, man."

Eddie nods fast in agreement, though Richie knows neither of them mean it. Neither of them would be able to live with themselves knowing they left the other Losers to face this shit on their own.

"Hey, about uh," Richie starts, breaking the silence and shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, "look, I know this is seriously shitty timing? But we never got to talk about--"

"What? Talk about what?" Eddie says quickly, suddenly tense and taking an unsteady step back. "Dude, what, my whole story at the restaurant? That was nothing, really, don't even--"

"Whoa, hey," Richie says, holding his hands out placatingly, "I just mean, I," he darts his eyes away from Eddie's, looking up at the ceiling. "I just... had no idea, I mean at the time, when we were... I didn't even know you were, you know, like. _That_."

Richie watches Eddie back away further, subconsciously reaching into his pockets for his inhaler.

"It's just," Richie goes on, licking his lips and thinking of how to break the tension, "y'know, you married a woman."

"Richie, seriously. Beep--"

"--And _what_ a woman!"

"Oh, you fucker," Eddie says, narrowing his eyes at him, annoyed. Which is better, much safer territory. "I fucking _knew_ you were looking at my Facebook page in the parking lot."

"I'm just saying," Richie says with a smile, "as far as Oedipal complexes go man," he holds his arms out at his waist and puffs out his cheeks. "You _really_ took the fucking cake, Spaghetti."

The nickname seems to make Eddie flush, and seeing that fills Richie with a familiar feeling, addictive and warm and rushing through him like honey.

It hits a different nerve for Eds, apparently. _"Fuck you,_ dude," Eddie says with a scowl, about to shove past him.

Richie grabs him by the arm before he can.

"Wait, wait. Sorry, I was… I was being serious though," he says, his tone completely different from just a second ago. "Before, about--Eds, I didn't _know_ we were - that you thought we were _dating_ , I swear. I didn't even know you swung that way!"

Eddie works his jaw and tries to even out his breathing, his fingers still twitching for that inhaler. Richie feels like they never even missed the beat that was those twenty-seven years. Eddie's still Eddie, save the deeper frown and the stubble and lines by his eyes. Richie still knows him so well.

Slowly, Richie slides his hand down to his wrist, touching lightly. Eddie lets him, and after a moment he threads their fingers together, holding tight. _Fuck_ , but Richie feels thirteen again.

"It was a long time ago," Eddie finally says, his voice sounding raw, "I only _just_ remembered who you all are a couple hours ago, let alone... Things were so different back then. _I'm_ different," he clears his throat and looks Richie in the eye, "Rich, eventually... I must've--I, I got over you."

Richie's mouth twists down at that, at the sting in those words. He blinks rapidly a few times and swallows hard. "...But, I didn't, I mean," he starts softly, Eddie's hand still warm in his, "I didn't even know you were ever-- _under_ me."

His heart thumps painfully, silence stretching into hours as they stare at each other. And then, Richie's finger catches against Eddie's wedding ring, and he looks down at the gold band wrapped around his finger. That's when Eddie sighs and steps away, saying gently, "Some things are just better left in the past, Rich."

Richie looks at him at that, and lets go of him, his hand falling back to his side.

"Eddie," Richie says, breathing fast, and hates that it sounds so much like a plea. His last shot.

But Eddie walks away anyway. It's the rational thing to do, he supposes, the grown-up thing. There's just no time to dredge up and talk about things like this, not when there's a killer clown on the loose.

Eventually Richie's breathing steadies itself, but his heart never really does.

"I didn't even know I had a shot to miss," Richie whispers to the empty space in front of him, and goes to join the others.


	3. Chapter 3

_"You're braver than you think."_

_"Thanks, Richie."_

_"This kills monsters… if you believe. If you believe it does."_

_"Beep beep, motherfucker!"_

"Richie, Richie, hey," Eddie says urgently, smiling as Richie reaches up to touch him. "I think I did it man, I think I--!"

"Guys, move!" Stan yells, frantically running towards them.

That's when Eddie looks over his shoulder, and sees It gathering itself and gearing up to strike.

"Oh shit!" Eddie quickly grabs Richie and rolls them away, covering him with his body. It roars and lunges its claw right where Eddie and Richie were, and sharply grazes Eddie's arm before he can move them out of the way.

"Holy shit, _holy shit!"_ Eddie shouts in agony, panicking as he tries to heave a still mostly-catatonic Richie up. Then Stan reaches them and helps, hoisting up Richie's other side.

Eddie's arm stings with pain and bleeds through his torn up sleeve. Still, he clutches Richie tightly around the waist, breathing fast. "Oh, fuck--my _fucking_ arm… shit, we could've died, Rich," Eddie babbles, and looks over at Stan, "I could've-- _Stan_ , if you hadn't we could've... It almost…!"

"Thank me later, just fucking come on," Stan bites out as they rush down to a narrow crevice in the ruins where It can't reach them. Eddie hopes to God that the others follow.

They set Richie down against some rocks. Eddie kneels down in front of him, straddling Richie's legs again as he raggedly sucks in air. Eddie tears off his jacket and hisses at the pain in his arm.

"Fucking shit," Eddie winces, breathing heavy, "Jeez, I _really_ wish I hadn't burned my inhaler," he laments, and grasps weakly at Richie's shirt to shake him. "Richie, come on, snap out of it" he demands, trembling, "Rich, _hey."_

"He's still out of it," Stan tells the others as they run down towards them, away from It trying to claw into the space.

"Eddie, y-your arm!" Bill says when he's close, but Eddie only has eyes for Richie.

"Rich," Eddie says again desperately, still breathing hard. He slaps Richie's cheeks a little, his fingers caught in his collar. "Hey buddy, c'mon. Come back to me, Richie. _Please_ , we need you. _I_ fucking need you. That-that fucking thing _won't die!"_

At that, It lets out a deep growl and the ground and walls around them tremble.

Even so, Richie's vacant eyes continue to stare blankly at Eddie, wide and lost in fear.

Eddie feels like crying. But he makes a decision.

He gently grabs Richie's chin and leans in close, swallowing his gasping breaths for long enough to press his mouth to Richie's.

The others gasp at the kiss, but Eddie doesn't care. Doesn't care about the clown, or the sewers' bacteria, or his arm searing with pain. All he cares about is getting Richie back.

It's chaste and quick anyway, much quicker than Bev and Ben's was way back when, but it's the best Eddie can do whilst having an all-out anxiety attack.

Still, Richie's lips are soft and warm, and Eddie _feels_ something unlock in the kiss, like a puzzle piece falling into its right place. Richie gasps when they part, and _finally_ blinks back at Eddie with recognition, his eyes flickering around behind his glasses.

_"...Eddie."_

"Hey," Eddie says with a small smile, letting out the air he was holding. "Hey Rich, I'm here."

"You... kissed me," Richie says slowly, wondrously, his voice scratchy and weak. He reaches a hand up to gently touch Eddie's cheek.

"Yeah," Eddie says meaningfully, aware of the others watching and ignoring their gaze, "I did."

Richie stares at him for a second, his wide eyes darting down to Eddie's lips. He starts to smile.

"So does," Richie clears his throat and pushes up his glasses, "does this mean we're dating now, or...?"

This is the part where Eddie would normally shove Richie away and tell him to shut the fuck up. But right now, at this moment, all Eddie can do is let out a laugh that sounds more like a sob, and collapses against Richie's chest, his face tucked into Richie's damp neck to breathe him in. Eddie wraps his arms around his shoulders, afraid of letting go.

Without hesitation, Richie hugs him back tightly.

"Oh shit, Eds," he says eventually, noticing the blood soaking into his clothes, "hey, Eddie, you're bleeding, man!"

Eddie pulls away and glances down, there's a long gash running from the back of his hand to his elbow. The skin is jagged, shredded open, deep enough to show the sinew and muscle beneath, the dark pool of blood gushing down his arm.

"Oh, that's… that's... bad," Eddie says faintly, suddenly feeling woozy.

_"Fear,"_ It growls, its claws scraping loudly against the stone, _"Oh, I can smell your fear."_

"Holy fuck, _Eddie,"_ Richie swears as Eddie falls heavily against him. "Bill, guys quick! Hand me something--we've gotta tie something around his arm, we gotta put pressure on the bleeding!"

They manage to wrap his arm up, closing the wound as best they can with what they have. Eddie comes to enough to notice that it aches painfully, but at least the bleeding isn't as bad.

"You okay there, Eds?" Richie shifts next to him, watching him with concern, but Eddie's feeling clearer now, clearer than ever before.

"Yeah, yeah, but hey," Eddie says slowly, lifting his hand to touch Richie's face. "Richie, I have to tell you something."

"What, what is it?" Richie asks, eyes wide.

"I fucked your mom," Eddie says seriously, then laughs in his face. "Now let's go kill that fucking clown."

_epilogue_

"I just can't imagine going home," Eddie says on the third day, looking pale and small in the hospital bed, and yet, somehow _brighter_ than Richie thinks he's ever seen him.

Sun streams into the white room, making everything clinical feel soft and warm. The others come by to visit everyday, but Richie hardly ever leaves.

"It's like," Eddie goes on to say, "like it never really was my home, or, or even _my_ _life_ , you know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah," Richie answers distractedly, reaching over to adjust the tape on Eddie's bandaged cheek, and grumbling about how the nurses never seem to do it right. "A different you."

Eddie stares at him as he does so, and slowly begins to smile. Tentatively, he reaches for Richie's hand across the sheets.

"I think I'm the same me I've always been," Eddie says softly, and Richie takes his hand without question, gently running his thumb over his bandaged knuckles, wishing he could kiss them.

"And who's that," Richie asks faintly, noticing that Eddie's wedding ring is gone. Probably cut off by paramedics. "Which same ol' Eds are you?"

"The one that's always been in love with you, obviously."

Richie looks up sharply at him, and it makes Eddie laugh, sudden and loud.

"Oh, your face, your face," Eddie laughs fondly as Richie peppers him with kisses, "wonder if you'll have a heart attack when I ask if I can move in." 

"Oh, Spagheds," he says, "you ask the stupidest questions." Richie grins when Eddie weakly tries to whack at him with his good hand.

* * *

Eddie is left with a small scar on his cheek which Richie likes to tell people happened from an intense blowjob accident. And Eddie likes to smack him upside the head for it each time.

He also has a bit of nerve damage in his hand, the one he uses to write, which sucks, but it's mainly his wrist and only two of his fingers.

The damage to his hand doesn't stop him from signing the divorce papers, though.

"You're seriously going through with it?" Richie asks, sitting on the couch and throwing skittles into his mouth. He misses more than he gets, nervous for some reason. "No take backs there, Eddie-bear."

"Dude, of _course_ I'm going through with it," Eddie scoffs at him, then smiles fondly. He pushes the papers on his desk aside and stands. "It's something that I should've done a long time ago," he says and tilts his head, looking wistful, "Or to begin with. It was never really me."

Richie snorts at that. "What, and this is?" But his heart beats loudly as Eddie comes to sit beside him on the couch. He casually throws his feet into Richie's lap as one of Bill's movies plays on the TV.

Eddie just smiles at him and scoots in close. Then he reaches out to take one of Richie's hands in his bad one, slowly lacing their fingers together.

"Now who's asking stupid questions," Eddie says and cups Richie's cheek, sweeping in to press their lips together. "This is who I've _always_ been."

_fin_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I'm also [thewordsleep](https://thewordsleep.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, mostly I reblog fanart and post fic updates there :)
> 
> Russian translation by [qbabee0](https://ficbook.net/authors/4008036) is available [**here**!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/9231261) <3


End file.
